


In Which Sherlock Wants to Try Something, and John Decides to Go Along for the Ride

by Teh_Poet



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal, Established Relationship, Frottage, I took a bit of anatomical liscense, M/M, Sherlock is inventive, Tumblr: exchangelock, a bit of shmoop, and... I really don't know what to call it...?, but it's a sex position, just not a very likely one, you just know he'd come up with something like this...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teh_Poet/pseuds/Teh_Poet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had started innocuously enough… The detective had looked at him across the table one morning, no inflection or expression, and just-</p><p>“We’re trying something…”</p><p>“We are?” John Watson knew to be wary. He hadn’t been asked a question, a request hadn’t been made… A calm statement, and that was apparently that.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>See?</p><p>--</p><p>Written for the December Exchangelock!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Sherlock Wants to Try Something, and John Decides to Go Along for the Ride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> MrsMagenta didn't want anything specific, so what do I do? THIS
> 
> Don't trust me to come up with my own story ideas, kids... It's never pretty 
> 
> I don't know whether to apologize for this, or...?
> 
> <3!

It had started innocuously enough… The detective had looked at him across the table one morning, no inflection or expression, and just-

“We’re trying something…”

“We are?” John Watson knew to be wary. He hadn’t been asked a question, a request hadn’t been made… A calm statement, and that was apparently that.

“Yes.”

See?

“When are we trying this something?”

“After you’re finished eating, would probably be best…”

Ah, now there was the hint of a smile. So this would probably be something enjoyable, if nothing else… entertaining, at the absolute least.

“And will I find out what this something is, or am I to be left in the dark?” He matched the twinkle with his own, and waited for Sherlock to take the invitation. He’d do it, whatever it was, god knows he’d do absolutely anything for the man if asked the right way, but it was nice to know what he was getting himself into, sometimes.

~~

Turns out the _something_ involved sex. Which was fine. Wonderful, even. He was never one to turn his lover down for a little tumble.The slide of skin on skin, the lips and tongues and teeth, the fingertips and nerve-endings—all of it was wonderful, truly, but there was more to this something and Sherlock had yet to reveal it… The gentle frisson of apprehension kept him on edge, but it was easy to get distracted when large hands -slick with lubricant- stroked his erection from root to tip, slippery and wet and perfect and okay maybe it didn’t matter what Sherlock was planning, this was just fine.

“Sherlock, what are you doing down there?”

The detective, flushed and shiny with perspiration, flashed him a rare, genuine grin, “I’m making myself ready for you,” he huffed out.

“Don’t I usually do that for you?” In truth, John rather liked that part… It was a bit pride, a bit concern over doing it right- Sherlock was sometimes apt to rush things and they didn’t need that right now. He didn’t get a response, however, he was simply treated to a lovely view of a gorgeous backside as Sherlock turned around and positioned himself facing the other direction. There was a split second where the air was still before the man sank down on his length, slowly but without pause. John couldn’t help the soft moans he exhaled as his pelvis came to meet the detective’s buttocks.

“Christ, Sherlock, you feel amazing,” he breathed before placing his hands on his lover’s thighs and gently rolling his hips.

“Don’t move.”

John froze. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, now hold still…”

“Is this ‘something’ you wanted to try a new position? Is that what we’re doing?” He tried to keep still. It was so tempting to push into the tight heat that was enveloping all of his sensitive flesh. It was almost painful to sit there and endure the pressure without moving.

“Something like that,” was the murmured response, and then he heard the cap of the bottle of slick they were using. It was the only warning he got before he felt two wet fingers reaching between his own arse cheeks.

“Wait, what?” Well this was certainly different…

“I should have put a pillow under your hips, spread your legs wider I can’t get at it from here…”

“’Get at it’, what are you trying to do?” He didn’t think he _didn’t like_ where this was going… It was a strange way of going about it, but he supposed it wasn’t much different than getting your cock sucked and having a finger stuck in you… He tried to comply and opened his legs, the motions shifting and pulling at the space where they were connected. John breathed through it, loving the way it felt but instinct driving him to press into it and move.

“That’s it, now don’t move…” John rolled his eyes at the bossy twit, but did as he was told, though he couldn’t be bothered to stop his wandering hands… He ran his fingers up Sherlock’s sides and down his back, gentle skims of his fingertips, as he felt the blunt pressure pressing at his entrance. He tilted his hips up, smirking at the sound that escaped his lover’s throat as he pressed deeper in.

“Don’t worry, just helping,” he chuckled.

“Mmhmm,” Sherlock squeezed down, and John swore.

“That’s not fair,” he shivered and flexed his toes trying to alieve the tension and ache.

“Then behave,” came the admonishment along with the first finger finally breaching him.

John breathed through it as the finger slid in and out, and was joined by another.

“And when can I move?”

“Not yet,” Sherlock was distracted with whatever he was trying to accomplish in fingering him open, but with every new stretch and wiggle, John’s resolve was slowly cracking. He couldn’t be expected to just sit there for much longer, pretty soon biological instinct was going to override rational thought…

“Sherlock…”

“We’re almost ready…” and yes, that was three fingers, three long fingers, reaching deep and spreading and pulling out and pushing back in again and _that’s the prostate_ he couldn’t help it he squeezed and bucked and didn’t even bother trying to hold back the groan.

Sherlock panted a bit at his own stab of pleasure as he was nearly unseated, but John regained control of his addled limbs just in time for the man to twist a bit and-

“That’s not helping…” John had to grit his teeth, but he managed to keep relatively motionless while Sherlock found whatever angle he was looking for.

“I think… yes, John lift your right leg just a bit.”

There was no point arguing, maybe if he jumped through all the right hoops they’d finally get to the fucking? He couldn’t see very well what Sherlock was doing, but he was wriggling around and-

“Still not helping…”

“Oh, keep it in your pants-“

He couldn’t help it, he snorted. Then he giggled. When Sherlock joined in, chuckling in his deep baritone, the giggle broke into a full belly laugh. They were sitting there, attached at the hips, laughing and not fucking and it was all so ridiculous…

“Sherlock, please… what are we doing here?” he just managed to get it out, giddy on adrenaline and oxytocin. If he knew what they were trying for, perhaps he could help and they could get to the fucking.

“Just let me get my leg under yours…” his voice was still rich with the laughter, but it seems they were getting back to business. He was apparently just as eager to get on with things…

“And how are you going to do that?”

“I’ll manage, just… bend your knee a bit more, yes there we go.”

“Now what?” Sherlock’s right leg was beneath his own right leg, but Sherlock’s left was still resting to the outside of his left hip. It was a complicated position and he didn’t understand what purpose it was meant to serve, but at least they were one step closer?

“Now, you should lean to your left…”

“Like this?” He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing, but he rocked a bit up onto his left hip, and Sherlock tipped forward, so that now he was laying sprawled across John’s legs, still with his prick up his arse.

John started chuckling again, “Sherlock, are we scissoring?”

“Are we what?” it was almost _almost defensive_ , but not enough to worry him.

“It’s a… oh never mind, what do we do next?”

“Next,” Sherlock huffed, and reached around until he found the lube. John couldn’t see anything, but where he was expecting fingers, he felt something much blunter and much fatter…

“Wait, Sherlock is that…?”

“Yes, now spread just a little… bit… more…”  
John did. God help him, his spread his legs a little more, and Sherlock was shoving his prick inside. Well… Sherlock was _trying_ to shove his prick inside. The angle was obviously a bit difficult…

“Sherlock, I don’t think…”

“Nonsense,” direct, to the point, “my research leads me to believe that if one or both partners are well endowed, this would be possible… I may not be huge, but I’m fairly long… and _you_ ,” a breathless chuckle, “well, we both know what you’re working with…”

Okay. Well… If they were doing this, then…

He tipped his hips up again, bowed his back, spread his legs as wide as he could with Sherlock wrapped between them, and then the strangest thing happened… _It went in_. It pressed past the first ring of muscle and just barely dipped past the second before physics made it pop right back out again. _But jesus_.

“Sherlock…” much shakier now, full of tension and anticipation. Now he had a goal…

“Let me just try again…” equally as breathless- yes, this might work, if they just-

“Here, budge up a bit, it won’t work if you’re fully seated like that-“

Sherlock deferred to John’s anatomical expertise (he was a doctor, after all) and pulled off of his cock a bit, and now with both of their pelvises tilted toward each other he managed to shove his own prick a little further in. It wasn’t much, but the angle meant that there was all sorts of lovely pressure on the more sensitive parts… There was no way he’d reach his prostate in this position, but it was so novel, so interesting, it may not much matter.

Sherlock trembled on top of him, he’d surely been stewing over this particular one for days now… He was likely quite worked up over finally getting to move from theory to practice.

“Alright John, I’m going to move now…” The air was still, pregnant with the hope and wonder of this strange thing they were doing.

John took a deep breath, “go head…”

Sherlock pushed forward, sliding just a bit deeper and pulling off John’s prick before pushing back on his length. They were small, exploratory movements, and they forced all sorts of tiny noises from the both of them. Soft exhalations of breath, and barely audible moans… It was strange, and it felt _good_. But then, just as things were starting to ramp up, Sherlock moved just a bit too far forward and John slipped out of him. He let loose a frustrated noise, and John sympathized but he held it together remarkably well.

“Hold on,” he breathed, “if we’re going to do this right, we’re going to have to coordinate…” He tilted his hips once more, and used his left hand to spread apart Sherlock’s arse while his right hand angled his cock down and he shoved in, graceless and impatient. Sherlock didn’t seem to mind, so he didn’t bother apologizing. Keeping his hand on his cock, he squeezed at what he could reach of Sherlock’s hip. “Alright, gorgeous. Slowly now… After a minute I’ll match you.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything, but he took the hint and shimmied a hand under his torso, presumably to hold his own prick steady, and rocked his hips gently- forward then back, and again. John let it go for a moment before he dug a heel into the mattress and started moving with him. When Sherlock rocked back to seat himself further on John’s cock, he thrust forward to meet him. Then when Sherlock tilted forward to dip further into John’s arse, he pushed back to help it go deeper. It was fairly simple to find their rhythm, and it wasn’t necessarily pretty, but with both of them holding on and paying attention it was actually working.

And _Christ_ but it was intense. To have an already tight passageway squeezing around you (made tighter by the impossible angle) while at the same time having something stretching and sliding and catching at the rim of your arsehole… It was very quickly becoming too much to maintain…

“John…” It seemed Sherlock felt similarly, if the shiver and the flexing of toes was anything to go on…”

“More slick, Sherlock…” John grabbed for the bottle with his free hand and drizzled it all over his lap, ignoring finesse for desperation. He tossed it down towards his feet and Sherlock shakily poured some before bring his own hand back down and John groaned as Sherlock’s erection slid better in.

“I’m going to move faster, John…”

“Alright, yeah…”

It was inelegant. It was messy. But they both rocked into each other, and only felt better as the lube and sweat made them both shiny and slick and it felt so good he couldn’t help himself, John thrust forward, and Sherlock cursed as he slipped out again. John groaned, in defeat this time, and bit his lip to control the spike of frustration. He was going to ask Sherlock if he wanted to try again, when he felt the bed rumble before he heard the breathless chuckle coming from near his ankles.

“It’s not working…”

John smiled, “No, it’s not…”

“Ah, well… can’t blame me for trying…”

“Mmm…” John loved this man, “well, do you wanna keep going, or has the mood been killed?” It hadn’t. Not for him. As ridiculous as the whole thing had been, it was still glorious and perfect and mad and everything he came to appreciate in his relationship with the nutter detective.

Sherlock twisted around, pulling off and tugging his legs free from their tangle with the smaller man, and turned to drape himself over John, lining their still straining erections up with each other. John grinned up at him and stretched a toe out to kick the bottle of lube back up from the foot of the bed. They were going to have to buy a new bottle soon if they kept this sort of thing up… Sherlock leaned back as John flicked the cap open and poured more over their pricks and then Sherlock’s large hand wrapped around them both and John sighed out his pleasure.

“I think this is more than sufficient,” Sherlock dipped down and pressed his mouth to John’s, hot and open. Tongues met in the middle as John thrust up into the tight ring Sherlock’s fist made around them. It didn’t take long. Both men were on edge from the brilliant, if failed, experiment—and it truly felt amazing to slide against hard flesh, and the slip and slide from the overabundance of slick just made the whole thing dirtier… Sherlock dropped his head down to John’s shoulder, trembling and panting and John dug his fingers into the fleshy parts of his hips.

“Sherlock…”

“I know…”

John tipped over first, brilliant flashes of pleasure crested and he quaked through pulses as his muscles seized with wave after wave. Sherlock huffed out a sob and thrust a few more times before the tension broke and he came too, groaning into John’s chest as he bit down to diffuse the intensity. Quiet descended around them, and the stillness rested for just a moment before one, and then the both of them, started giggling.

“You’re absolutely mad, you know that, right?”

“At least you can say you’re never bored with me…” Sherlock smiled down at him, and John leaned up to kiss him, slow but chaste.

He was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU CATIEBRIE FOR TEH BETA <3333


End file.
